I was a student in a college classroom filled with students. A professor standing at the front of the room was conducting the class. He was a tall slender man
(probably
50 years old) dressed in a black suit. At the end of the class, I was surprised when he called out my name, summoning me to the front of the class. As the other students left, I walked up front and stood before the professor. He was holding a letter of sorts, a letter addressed to me. I immediately recognized the letter and
I knew what it said.

The letter concerned another class which I was taking, a history class. In the letter I had been told that within
20 days, I would have to find someone to work with me on a history project which I needed to complete. I told the professor that I had left the letter lying at the front of the class, hoping that I would find someone who would work with me on the project. However, I had completely forgotten about the letter, and I was now afraid that the
20 days had already run out.

I looked at a calendar hanging on the wall. I thought it was already the 20th of the month, and that I had received the letter on the last day of the preceding month. But I suddenly
realized it was only the 17th, and that I still had a
couple days in which to find someone with whom to work on the project.

I profusely thanked the professor for having brought the matter to my attention. I thought I would immediately go to the history department and explain that I had been unable to find someone to work with me. I would further inform the people in the history department that I
didn't think that it should be my responsibility to have to find someone with whom to work on this project, that they should find someone for me.

Having taken my leave, I walked out of the room and headed down the hall to the elevator. When I stepped on board, I saw two other young men, and a boy
(about 14 years old) standing on the elevator. The doors shut and the elevator began going down.

Almost immediately I perceived that we had a problem: the elevator
didn't appear to be functioning correctly. I estimated that we must be
20-30 stories high, and I could see that the elevator was picking up speed, falling out of control. On the wall was a gauge which showed what floor we were on. The gauge was about a meter high and resembled a thermometer, the kind with a red liquid that rises and falls in a long tube in the middle. Along the side of the gauge, in descending order, were the numbers of the floors. I watched in shock as the red fluid plummeted down the series of numbers. Obviously we were completely out of control and headed for a crash at the bottom.

I frantically wondered what would be the best position in which to be when we crashed: should we remain standing or should we lie down on the floor of the elevator? I tired to talk to the other three, to point out the danger and decide on a course of action. But they seemed completely unfazed, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Sensing that we had almost reached the bottom, I lay down on the floor. Suddenly with a bang, we hit bottom. But the impact was so slight, I hardly felt it. However, the elevator had clearly been severely damaged. All the walls were badly crumpled, the ceiling was awry, and we appeared to be sitting at a slant.

No one was injured, and we all began looking around, trying to assess our situation. I noticed a small rectangular door on the ceiling of the elevator. The door had been jarred open so I could see through it, but it looked so small, I doubted that I would be able to squeeze through it. Up above me I could see metals pipes and ducts. On one wall of the elevator was another hole through which I could see outside. I could make out what appeared to be train tracks just outside; but then ended after only a few feet. In my mind I envisioned the elevator as having fallen down a long shaft. At the bottom of the shaft were some tracks which the elevator would normally stop on, and then pass through a short tunnel, just as tracks pass through mines, with cars carrying the mined material out of the mines. I surmised that the elevator would then travel to another shaft a short distance away, and go up the second shaft. But these thoughts were just speculation, and they
didn't matter much anyway, because the elevator was obviously not going to move anywhere. We simply were trapped. I said, "We'll never get out of here."

However I did think there was some hope. Surely the administration would recognize the liability they were facing if students were to be killed in an elevator crash. The college could be sued for millions of dollars. For that reason alone, someone would surely try to rescue us.

We all looked around the elevator. The boy was the first to discover a red button which said "Help." The boy began pushing the button and it
wasn't long before we heard a voice. Looking around, for the first time I noticed that there was a small white porcelain wash sink on the wall, with a typical silver faucet and two handles. The voice which we now heard was clearly coming from the faucet, a reassuring soft voice which said, "I'm with you."

The voice apparently was coming from someone aware of our plight, someone trying to console us. I thought perhaps the person behind the voice had once been in a situation such as this, and knew the fear we were experiencing, stuck as we were at the bottom of the shaft.

Again a voice came through the faucet, "The hostage situation
– its estimated that 440 ..."

I couldn't clearly hear the last part of the sentence, but I thought the person might have said, "440 turns of power." But then again, I thought the person might have said "440 hours", indicating that we would we would have to wait in the elevator that long before being rescued.

I also wondered what they had meant by "hostage situation." Was it possible that we were being held hostage?